


The Right Now Now

by douchebagindisguise



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: 2d/murdoc - Freeform, 2doc - Freeform, ANTI 2DOC DO N O T INTERACT, LOTS OF MINIFICS, M/M, SO SORRY, all of them are different, just wanted to post them lmao, niccalpot, these are all minifics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 10:11:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15928280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/douchebagindisguise/pseuds/douchebagindisguise
Summary: A lot of minifics that I've written over time. Usually when I'm high or when I get an idea but don't plan on continuing them and because of that, they are unedited. If you'd like me to add on to these please let me know! Beginning notes will give you a summary of each one.





	1. Gift Wrap

**Author's Note:**

> Parent AU! Murdoc adopted Noodle on a whim and him and Russel tried to raise her because he doesn't think Murdoc is fit to parent. Stu meets Murdoc at the music store he works at. 1888 words.

Stuart doesn’t know what he expected when a man with a sense of familiarity to him, a crooked nose and a sharp grin came into the store. He was frantic, and his first words to Stuart were, “Do you gift wrap?” And the second being a question about guitars. The man had quickly decided on a Rogue acoustic after various questions and comments about a ‘Noodle’. Stuart presumed it was a woman, maybe a girlfriend. This thought was silenced when the man received a call. Stuart heard a booming voice on the other side of the phone but only understood the man’s side of the call. “I know, Russel. I’m out getting it right now. Don’t worry about it, love, she’s going to adore it. I know a thing or two about music,” he had said, with short pauses between his sentences to listen to the other side. Maybe Russel and Noodle were friends. The man spoke to this Russel in a way that friends usually don’t. It was much warmer and kind, maybe Russel was the boyfriend. Stuart had stared at the man, and Stuart abandoned the sense of familiarity he had when he first spots him. As Stuart rung up the guitar and began wrapping it in the smooth white paper, he took a short glance at the name on the credit card. 

_Murdoc A Niccals._

Stuart didn’t recognize the name but continued to swipe the card and add a bright green bow to the top of the wrapped box. Murdoc’s eyes shined with excitement as Stuart handed him the box and his card. “Thanks,” he grinned, Stuart smiled and nodded. “You have no idea what this means to me...” he continued, looking for a name to match the blue-haired boy who helped him wrap a guitar for an unknown woman. 

“Stuart,” he finished, and the man looked almost relieved. He shoved his card back into his wallet before flashing Stuart another charming smile.

“Thanks, Stuart,” Murdoc said. In a small burst of strange energy, mainly powered by the intensity of Murdoc’s oddly colored eyes, he scribbled his phone number on the back of his receipt. Stuart handed it to the man who held the guitar close before thanking him again and running out of the store. Stuart watched him leave and sighed. What did he do?

Stuart got a text from an unknown number and slowly came to realize that it was Murdoc. The strange man in the store who had made a rash decision to purchase a guitar for a woman he called ‘Noodle’. The two texted back and forth for an hour before Stuart got yelled at by his manager for being on his phone. 

The day went by slowly after that.

Stuart decided to go to a bar after work once. He was meeting with his friend Paula for some drinks, she had gotten engaged and they were going to celebrate. The two sat in the bar, laughing and drinking. Paula eventually left without him and Stuart spot a mop of glossy black hair at the end of the counter. Murdoc sat alone, looking much more solemn and upset than when Stuart saw him at the store. Stuart slid a couple seats over and propped himself on the counter, sipping his drink. Murdoc looked up and his eyes widened at the sight of Stuart. He grinned and Stuart laughed softly.

“So, did your friend like the guitar?” he asked, and Murdoc nodded before taking a long drink.

“She’s not a friend, she’s my daughter,” Murdoc said, and most of Stuart’s past questions were answered. He didn’t sound too happy about it, either. Stuart gave him a weird look and Murdoc smiled. “I love her, with my whole heart. But my buddy Russel doesn’t think I’m fit to parent her,” he slurred. Stuart could tell he was already a little drunk. Stuart felt the strong urge to take care of him.

“I don’t think so,” he said, even though he was fully aware that he had no say in the subject. Murdoc just looked so upset sitting alone in the dingy bar by himself.

“Stuart, right?” He nodded. “Could you...” Murdoc looked at a loss for words. “Could you drive me home?” he asked.

Stuart stared into Murdoc’s dim, sad eyes and found himself nodding. Murdoc thanked him and slipped some cash under his glass before sliding off the stool. Stuart had only sipped a drink, he never really enjoyed drinking. Alcohol conflicted with his pain meds. Murdoc stumbled across the floorboards and Stuart hooked an arm around his waist. Murdoc tensed, then sighed and allowed Stuart to guide him to his car. Murdoc gave Stuart his address and instead of Murdoc’s drunken directions, Stuart mapped it on his phone. 

They were there in five minutes.

Stuart turned off his car and looked back at Murdoc. The man was leaning with his head against the window, his eyes closed but his brow furrowed in.... anguish. Stuart frowned.

“Murdoc, we’re here,” he said softly, already unbuckling himself and getting out of the car. When Stuart received nothing but a soft hum from the man, he wrapped his arms around his waist and dragged him to the doorstep. He hooked Murdoc’s arm around his shoulder and knocked on the door to the small house.

A man with dark skin and a bald head opened the door. Stuart noticed immediately that he looked displeased. His eyes moved between Stuart and the borderline unconscious Murdoc in his arms. His frown deepened, “Who’re you?” he asked. His voice was deep and American but was laced with irritation.

“S-Stuart,” Stu answered, his words faltering at the slight fear he felt of the man. He was intimidating, to say the least. “Murdoc asked me to drive him home, he’s not doing so well,” Stuart said with a frown. The man’s eyes widened and he opened the door to allow Stuart, and Murdoc, inside. 

The house was warm and appeared lived in. There was trash on the ground and a couple of dirty dishes on the coffee table. The man, who Stuart had yet to learn the name of, cleared his throat. “I apologize for the mess, we have a little one running around,” he said. That must be the ‘Noodle’ that Murdoc had mentioned. The man began clearing away dishes before taking Murdoc from Stuart’s arms. The man plopped Murdoc on the couch, who groaned in response. He turned to Stuart and offered a weak attempt at a smile before holding his hand out. “I’m Russel. You must be the ‘blue-haired beauty’ that Murdoc rambled about the other day,” he said, putting air quotes around the phrase. Stuart let out a breath and shook his hand.

Murdoc had spoken about him and called him a ‘beauty’ nonetheless. The thought made his gut stir uncomfortably. “I sold him the guitar for your daughter,” Stuart said simply, and at that moment a young girl with jet black hair hopped down the stairs. 

“Dad, have you seen my picks?” she said and took a couple glances at the scene around her. She made quick eye contact with Stuart and he saw her glittering green eyes. She looked at Murdoc and frowned, “Papa’s out again, huh?” 

Russel sighed and nodded, “Your picks are on the dining room table.” And with that, the girl scampered off into the kitchen. “That’s Noodle, she’s our daughter,” he said and Stuart smiled. The intimidation melted as he saw the tenderness when he spoke to her. He could see how much Russel loved that little girl.

Murdoc stirred from the couch. “Are we home yet?” he asked, a comical pitch to his voice. Russel’s frown returned and he turned to Murdoc and crossed his arms over his chest. Stuart stood awkwardly, not knowing whether to leave or stay.

“What do you think you’re doing? Getting drunk on a Tuesday?” Russel jabbed a finger into Murdoc’s chest and the man groaned and swatted his hand away. Stuart was reminded of being a teenager again, watching his parents argue.

“Sod off, ‘m allowed to do what I want,” he slurred and Russel rolled his eyes. Stuart cracked a smile. There was a tension in the house but Stuart assumed this was a regular occurrence with how Noodle reacted. Stuart really wanted to ask if they were together, seeing as Noodle called them ‘Dad’ and ‘Papa’, respectively. But the way they interacted, he could mostly answer the question himself. 

As the living room got quieter, Stuart felt himself twitching and shifting. Russel must’ve noticed his discomfort. “Uh, Stuart. Would you like a drink?” he asked very cautiously. Stuart smiled and nodded.

He motioned towards Murdoc. “I think he needs some water, if anything,” he said with a smile. Russel chuckled at that and agreed before disappearing into the kitchen. 

There was a beat. “Why are you here, bluebird?” Murdoc spoke up from the couch. Stuart sat down opposite him and offered a smile.

“I drove you home from the bar, Murdoc,” he said. “You asked me to,” he added and Murdoc snorted. Stuart felt himself smiling more than he ought to be around a drunken man he’d met twice.

“That’s a load of shit, I can walk home,” he said and wiggled his arms in the air to prove some kind of point.

“Not tonight you couldn’t,” Russel interjected as he came back into the living room with two glasses of water and a travel bottle. Murdoc made grabby hands at the bottle. Russel sighed and handed it to him. Stuart thanked him for the water and tried to make some kind of conversation with Russel. 

The two hit it off pretty well, finding out they both worked at music stores on opposite sides of town. Exploring their shared love for music and Russel laughing at Stuart’s jokes with his big hearty chuckle. They got to the topic of Noodle and at that point, Murdoc had already passed out with the water bottle slipping from his fingers. The two talked about the hardships they faced, how she was the only thing keeping any of their sanity. Stuart tried to think of anything that came close to being a father but he couldn’t. Sure, his car accident was something, but a child is someone you can never replace.

In the middle of their conversation, Russel heard the pitchy calling of Noodle. “Dad,” she dragged the word out and Murdoc stirred from his sleep. Russel excused himself and disappeared upstairs.

Stuart sent a glance at Murdoc. He looked much more peaceful when he slept. Eyes closed, dark lashes draped against his skin, slightly parted lips. What ruined Stuart’s admiration was the loud snores emanating from his throat. Stuart stood up and stood beside Murdoc, bending over to kiss his cheek as Russel descended the stairs. Stuart smiled and thanked him for his hospitality before making his leave. Russel gave him his phone number with a warm smile and an eye roll at the mention of Murdoc. Even Noodle waved goodbye to him before he left. 

As Stuart drove home, he couldn’t stop thinking about Murdoc. Which is probably horrible, considering they’d met twice now. Once while Murdoc was piss drunk. Well, it’s nice to hope.


	2. Whiskey on His Breath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> College AU! Murdoc is a shitty college professor that does such good work that the university won't fire him. Stuart is a student and things get weird. Featuring Yukimi Nagano from Little Dragon because she's cute. 5723 words.

Stuart Pot had been writing music since he could remember. His piano was his closest friend for his years during grade school and continued to be. Once he moved on to University, he knew he had to bring his keyboard with him. His loyal keyboard, one with peeling red paint and keys smudged with written chords drawn in permanent pen. He had already moved most of his stuff into his dorm and what was left was just his music stuff. His binders of loose paper and endless journals of old songs and music that he hadn’t the heart to throw out. He’d left his mother teary-eyed, talking about how much she loved him and was so proud of him for making it into the college he wanted most. He had hugged her tightly and drove away, wiping away his own tears.

It wasn’t until a year later when he got into an accident with a drunk driver and lost his eyes. Not entirely, but his eight ball fractures had left him partially blind. The accident had provided him with merciless migraines that hit him at the worst intervals. Prescription medication had been the only thing keeping them at bay. After that, he’d been in a place where he felt helpless. Broken, worthless, meaningless. Even getting out of bed in the morning had been something so difficult for him. His grades had dropped until he met two people that changed his life. A small, energetic Japanese girl who brought a new kind of energy into his life. Noodle is Stu’s best friend and biggest support system. And a big, hearty black man who became his rock. Russel Hobbs’ bearhugs and deep, heavy laughs had been something he looked forward to hearing every day. Learning that these two vastly different people had the same love for music as Stu did was almost as profound as meeting them. They were his everything. University got easier, and he started living again. 

The three of them got a flat together, a flat that would become Stu’s safe place. A place they filled with music and love. Noodle’s guitar gave off the most passionate chords and her voice was so lovely. Russel’s raw percussion gave the best rhythm that Stu adopted as a new heartbeat. His keyboard and raspy voice made everything complete. They became a light in his life previously filled with darkness.

Stu woke up on the couch in his flat with a dull pain in his head and an empty bottle of whiskey by his side. He sat up and the pain worsened, he groaned and glanced around him. He spots Noodle curled up in a blanket on the chair across from him, sleeping soundly. He blinked, he couldn’t remember the night before. What had he been doing that he ended up on the couch, and he tried to pick his brain for any conceivable memory. As he sat in his thoughts, Noodle’s eyes fluttered open and she yawned and stretched before giving Stu a smile.

“Mornin’ Stu-Pot,” she said softly and he glanced at her with a confused smile. She must’ve noticed the lack of remembrance and laughed quietly. “You came home drunk last night, you were speakin’ in tongues. You passed out and I stayed here to make sure you were okay,” she explained and Stu felt the affection for her in his chest.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he said and she shook her head. She stood up and walked into the kitchen, coming back with a glass of water and his migraine pills. Stu thanked her, “You always take care of me, Noods.”

She smiled and nodded, ruffling his hair before saying he should shower. He agreed, he smelled of whiskey and old sweat. Noodle disappeared into the back rooms. Stu wondered what time it was. He knew it was the weekend, maybe it was Saturday or Sunday. He started new classes on Monday, including a new music class. He was excited, he decided to major in music before he even thought it was possible that he could go to college. Stu downed the pills and sighed. He needed to clean and finish his work, the flat looked messy. Empty cans of soda or beer littered the ground and there were several questionable stains on the carpet. After a minute of just examining his space, he stood up and stretched, hearing several satisfying pops. He grabbed the glass Noodle brought him and collected any other dishes around him. Stu set them next to the ever-growing pile of dishes in the sink and grabbed a trash bag. He started gathering up trash and other odd items that weren’t important before throwing it all away. As he started the dishes, Noodle came back and saw him cleaning. She joined wordlessly, grabbing the broom and sweeping the floors. They cleaned in silence until Russel emerged from his room, yawning. He wasted no time turning on the stereo and helped Stu dry the dishes and put them in their respective cabinets. They were a good team, always had been. Stu loved their dynamic, cleaning in tune to the music, Noodle chiming in with her lovely singing when she knew the words. 

They finished much faster than Stu anticipated, giving him enough time to get to his homework. It was a lot less than he realized and once he was done, a perfectly timed knock came at the door and Noodle peeked her head in.

“Shower,” she reminded him and it was only then had the thought slipped his mind. Stu laughed and nodded before putting his work away and heading to the bathroom. 

Stu stared at himself in the mirror, his eyes, such strange sights. Despite the temporary nature of hyphema, his fractures had remained permanent. Instead of just his iris filling with blood, it had affected his whole eye. Noodle told him it made him look badass but he thought it scared people. Stu dismissed his insecurities and began to undress. He turned on the shower and stepped in, allowing the hot water to ease the tension in his shoulders. Stu must have spent longer than he thought just standing under the water because Russel knocked on the door.

“Yo Tuss, don’t waste the hot water,” he called from behind the door. Stu took this as a hint to hurry up. He finished washing and got out, wrapping a towel around his waist and turning on the fan before stepping out. Russel was gone by the time he opened the door and walked to his room. Stu collapsed onto the bed, wet hair and all, and let out a content sigh. This was how things had been. Living with his two best friends had been the best decision he’d ever made. 

Stu didn’t even realized he had fallen asleep until he woke up face down in his bed in nothing but a towel. He glanced at his alarm clock, thankful that he had enough time to get ready before his first class started. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, the beginning of another migraine drumming against his skull. He quickly got dressed and grabbed his bag. He made his way into the main room and saw Noodle at the table eating toaster waffles, headphones plugged in. He passed by her and flicked one of her pigtails before grabbing a glass of water and his pills. He downed them and checked the freezer, Noodle ate the last of the waffles. They didn’t really have much else in terms of food and he made a mental note to go shopping, even though he would eventually forget anyways. He refilled his water and sat down across from Noodle. She took out one of her earbuds and smiled at him.

“Mornin’,” she greeted softly and he nodded. “What class did you switch to again?” she asked and he tried to think for a moment.

“Music Theory, some teacher called Niccals I think,” he said with a shrug and her eyes widened before laughing.

“I heard he’s a huge prick, be careful, Stu,” she joked and he chuckled softly in return. He checked his watch and sighed, he didn’t want to be late so he might as well be early. He pats her head before grabbing his bag and leaving. 

The London air was cool and damp, as it usually was. Stu noted it might rain later in the day. He plugged in his headphones and started his walk to the university. It was a short walk but he had to look up where his class was located because naturally, he forgot. As he strolled through the hallways, he eventually found the classroom and was about ten minutes early. He opened the door and stepped in, immediately hit by the cold temperature of the room. The professor wasn’t even in the room yet. He found a seat further back in the class and sat down, grabbing his journals and propping his feet up on the desk in front of him. He kept his headphones in as more students filled the room. At the time class was supposed to start, the professor still hadn’t arrived. A couple minutes later, a girl sat beside him. He moved his feet and took out one of his headphones. She sent him a happy smile and he gave her a curious glance.

“Hello,” she said, and he grew more confused by the moment. “I’m Yukimi,” she offered her hand and Stu hesitantly took it. She had an odd accent that he couldn’t place.

“I’m Stu,” he replied and blinked. “Why’d you sit here?” he asked, sounding much harsher than he intended but she simply laughed.

“You look interesting, I haven’t seen you in class before,” she said and Stu was immensely confused by her kind nature. No one was usually this nice to him, especially with the way he looked. To be frank, he was intimidating. Tall, blue hair, no eyeballs. Not someone you’d sit next to and become friends with.

“Y-yeah, I switched from a different class,” he said and paused. “You think I look interesting?” he questioned.

Yukimi laughed, she had a sweet laugh, almost like a little bell, “Well, yes. You’re a strange sight,” she continued and it made Stu smile. The two talked for a bit before the door to the classroom opened suddenly, slamming against the wall.

A man walked in. Jet black hair, with uneven bangs covering his forehead and two piercing eyes. He stumbled over to the desk at the front and slammed a bag on top. Stu was slightly unnerved by how angry he seemed.

“Alright you little shits, I’m late, and more than a bit drunk. You know what your assignment is, do it,” he yelled and sat down, putting his head on the table. Stu must have looked a little shaken by his outburst because Yukimi was quietly laughing beside him.

“ _That’s_ the professor?” he asked in return, and she nodded breathlessly. He looked around at the other students, they seemed unfazed. Yukimi explained that his name was Murdoc Niccals, and he recognized the name from somewhere. She reminded him that he was in multiple bands as a bassist. She also added that this was his normal behavior, but he was such a great teacher that the university had no choice but to keep him. “What is the assignment, then?” he asked and she shared her notes, explaining that it was to write a jingle for a made up brand. Thoughts swirled around in his head and he nodded in understanding, copying the main ideas from her notes. Her handwriting was neat and her journals were color coded. The rest of the day passed slowly.

Every day, the class started the same. Murdoc came in late and told them what to do before promptly passing out at his desk or taking out the bass guitar he had dubbed ‘El Diablo’. Stu became closer with Yukimi and finally learned a bit more about her. She was in a band with some friends that she called ‘Little Dragon’. The accent Stu hadn’t previously known was Scandinavian, her mother was from Sweden and her father was Japanese. Knowing this, he thought she would like to meet Noodle. The class was simple enough, usually, it was just writing small tidbits of songs and not producing actual music. Yukimi told Stu about the midterm that was fast approaching. It was a duet song that you had to write and produce with a partner or two. They had already decided to work together by the time Murdoc assigned it.

“Midterms. This shit is the bulk of your grade. This class is ninety percent participation because I don’t like grading shit,” Murdoc said. “Pick a partner or group, I don’t care. Write a song. Give it meaning. If your song has bullshit lyrics and shoddy music then I will fail you and you will have no choice but to drop out,” he explained during class. “This is how I weed out those who take this class as a blow-off class and aren’t here to make actual music.”

Stu invited Yukimi back to his flat that day so that they could work together. They shared headphones on the walk and he got a feel for what music she listened to. When they arrived at the flat, Yukimi was able to meet Noodle. Russel wasn’t back from work at the time so Noodle was home alone. The two hit it off pretty well and exchanged phone numbers. Stu hadn’t realized that Noodle was fluent in Japanese until the two had started talking together. Stu had already been working on some song lyrics and pitched them to her when they sat on Stu’s bed. He had his keyboard in his lap and he was singing to her.

 _“Oh joy’s arise, the sun has come again to hold you, sailing out the doldrums of the whole week,”_ he sang and she smiled at him. He stopped, “What are you lookin’ at me like that for?” he asked with a laugh.

“You have a nice voice is all,” she replied and they kept working. They decided to call the song ‘Empire Ants’, talking about working hard when no one really notices. Yukimi invited Stu to record it at her friend Simon’s house. Simon was the guitar player in Yukimi’s band, and he had a full recording studio in his London home. Stu thought it all pretty amazing, and Yukimi even offered to let him use it to record future songs. Stu had thanked her endlessly. Over the next couple weeks, the two had utilized her band and his own to record the full song and fine tune it. When he heard Yukimi’s voice in the speakers of the studio, he got excited. It was one of the first songs he had recorded in a real studio and not on his iPad in the flat. The two did a good job, it was a great song and the whole group thought so. 

After they had turned it into Murdoc on a flash drive, Murdoc had paid closer attention to Stu. Stu often caught the man staring at him through his drunken stupor during class but he never said anything or thought much of it. That was until Murdoc had called for him after class one day.

“Stuart, right?” Murdoc asked him and Stu was confused and only a little terrified of the man. He nodded in response and Murdoc snorted, “I’m not gonna bite you, kid. I think you have something. You’re not dropping out, right?” he asked and Stu shook his head. “Good, do you think I could see that stupid… jingle I had you write when you first transferred in?” Murdoc asked and Stu had blinked at him and nodded slowly, not realizing the man had even noticed him. He pulled out his iPad and let him listen to the mediocre recording of his friends rapping about jellyfish and plastic food. Murdoc listened intently, his face never changing. When the song was over, Murdoc looked at Stu and grinned. “You’re bloody fantastic,” he said and then got up, gathered his things and left. Stu was more than confused and a little proud that his hardass teacher had thought of his music as fantastic. 

Yukimi was waiting outside the classroom when Stu came out. She looked concerned when she saw the look on Stu’s face, her concern was dropped. “He liked it?” she asked in wonderment and Stu had nodded and the two spent a couple minute celebrating before agreeing to meet for drinks later that night.

The pub was filthy and dull, the occupants were all older men looking to get drunk and for a woman to go home with. Yukimi was waiting for Stu in the pub, already nursing a glass of vodka. The two talked about music and how they should write another song together. As the night droned on, Yukimi excused herself and said goodnight. Stu decided to stay a bit longer and enjoy some time to himself. While alone with his thoughts, he noticed a familiar man sitting alone at the bar, hunched over himself with a glass of whiskey in hand. Stu blinked when he saw it was Murdoc Niccals himself, getting drunk in a pub after class. Stu told himself it shouldn’t be surprising seeing as the man came to class drunk, but spotting teachers outside of class was always weird. Murdoc must have noticed him staring because the man had moved seats to the one that Yukimi previously occupied.

“Mr. Niccals?” Stu asked with a laugh, he was more than a bit tipsy at this point. He knew Russel would have to come get him later. Murdoc frowned.

“Drop the formality, kid, we’re at a pub for Christ’s sake,” he said and Stu laughed again and nodded. “Why’re you here? There’s plenty of kid-friendly bars in London,” he finished his wine and asked for two whiskeys.

“Just havin’ a drink after a long week, as usual, not really lookin’ to party,” he may have been drunk but he knew better than to tell Murdoc that he was celebrating an internal victory.

“You were with that girl, Yukimaru or something. Why didn’t you go home with her?” Murdoc asked raising an eyebrow as he handed Stu one of the glasses.

Stu shrugged and took a drink, “Yukimi, yeah. She’s just a friend, mate. Not interested in birds,” he said, and Murdoc narrowed his eyes. Stu laughed softly, he looked quite silly like that.

“Oh, so you’re a fag?” Murdoc asked and Stu frowned. The man wasn’t wrong, but the use of the derogatory term reminded Stu of high school. Murdoc must have noticed his discomfort and he scoffed, “Not to worry, mate. Proud pansexual myself,” he said and Stu suddenly realized that he was learning a bit too much about his teacher than he would have preferred. Murdoc straightened his back and faced Stu, “So what’s with the eyes? Been meaning to ask about it,” Murdoc questioned and Stu blinked, this was a question he’d been asked a million times.

“Car accident right out of high school. It’s called hy..hypem… eightball fractures. My eyes are filled with blood,” Stu explained, having a little trouble with his words. That was normal for him but it was worsened by his current state of intoxication.

“Doesn’t it fuck with your sight?” Murdoc inquired and Stu nodded.

“Only a little bit, I can still mostly see. Things are just a bit dark,” Stu said with another shrug. His phone buzzed and he checked it, seeing a couple texts from Noodle asking about where he was. He shot her a text about Russel picking him up from the pub and turned his attention back to Murdoc. It gave him a bit of time to get a good look at the man. He had tan skin with a sickly greenish hue, his bangs were uneven and his eyes were dull and almost lifeless. To Stu, he looked more like a corpse than a man. Murdoc suddenly got up and disappeared into what Stu assumed was the bathroom. In that time, he got a call from Russel saying he was outside. In his drunken state, Stu wrote down his phone number and stuck it under the cup Murdoc was previously drinking out of. That might’ve been a bad idea but at that moment, Stuart didn’t care.

The drive to the flat was quiet and Russel said nothing about the increasingly annoying tapping Stu was making on the window of the car. He was humming an unfamiliar tune and Russel could only sigh. He was worried about Stu, it became more and more frequent that he came to pubs like this and got drunk. It was starting to become an issue. Russel knew there was no point in trying to talk to him now, Stu was very much in his own little world at the moment. Singing odd lyrics and tapping at the window like a piano. Russel parked in the garage and tried to get Stu out of the car and ended up having to carry him back to the flat, dropping him on his bed before retiring to his own room.

Stu woke up the next morning with a horrible headache and two texts from an unknown number. When he realized he was still in his clothes from yesterday, he changed his shirt and hoped nobody would notice. Stu quickly grabbed his pills and was out the door. He took note of the cloudy sky and swallowed his pills dry. He checked his watch as he borderline ran to the campus and got in right as class started but, as per usual, Murdoc was nowhere to be seen. Stu took a seat beside Yukimi and gave her a weak smile. He finally took a moment to check his phone.

 _“Stuart Pot, you are a horrible person. Leaving a man in a bar alone. Shame on you,”_ the first text read, and Stu immediately knew it was Murdoc who had found his number. The second text read, _“Don’t be late to class, Dents.”_ This made Stu scoff, seeing as Murdoc himself was late. He shot a snarky text back and put his phone away, grabbing his journals and checking his latest pages. He saw that the night before he had written a song called ‘Rockit’, and reading over it, he laughed. It was a silly song, and very obviously written by a drunk. 

Murdoc walked into class five minutes earlier than usual, yet still fifteen minutes late. He seemed more rested and less drunk than on a regular day. He sat down and put his hands in front of him. The class seemed on edge, his behavior was unusual. Then he spoke, “Write me a song about something mundane. No hidden meaning, just something simple,” he said softly, and Stu was confused. Despite this, Stu thought about Brooklyn and Russel. Then he started writing. Revolving doors, what have I done?

Stu never understood why people acted different depending on who they were speaking too. Stu never understood a lot of things but that was a big one. Yukimi tried to explain that she was very different around her parents because they had different views on things than Stu did. Stu still didn’t understand and she gave up trying to explain it. This thought came up when Stu and Murdoc ended up talking a lot. The only time they weren’t texting was during their class, usually because Murdoc was passed out on his desk. Despite their almost constant conversation, Murdoc never spoke to Stu during class. This frustrated the boy, seeing as he enjoyed talking to the man. Murdoc was interesting, his love for music was so passionate, Stu was sure it outshined him and his bandmates combined. The two spoke of bands and instruments, chords and lyrics. Stu loved every moment of it. Even Yukimi had noticed an uplift in his mood since the night at the bar.

“Are you seeing someone, Stu?” she suddenly asked him one day and he laughed and shook his head. Yukimi frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. “What’s got your spirits so high then?” she pushed and pried but even Stu didn’t quite have an answer for that and he had simply shrugged.

“I made a friend,” he told her and she, although exasperated, left it alone. Stu had been walking with a skip in his step and hummed happily whenever he could. Noodle and Russel were slightly unnerved by the sudden change, but if Stu was happy then who were they to question it? Stu had had a rough past couple years and this was the first time they’d seen him genuinely happy most of the time. And because of this splurge of happiness, he’d been writing music. Specifically a song he decided he would play for finals. He’d only heard rumors of what finals were for Murdoc’s class and he was excited. Finally, after years, he’d be able to perform again.

Despite his anxious nature, Stu was a performer. He loved sharing his music with others and he always loved being on stage no matter what. His mother would tell him, and most would agree, that he was made for the stage. Because of this, he booked small venues to sing at or he would drag his friends to karaoke night at the closest pub.

The class was quiet as the students focused on their work. Murdoc didn’t seem to mind this, seeing as he took class time to sleep off his hangovers. Stu’s suspicions were confirmed, they were performing written pieces for the final. His year was almost over, he couldn’t believe that he only had a year left of uni before he graduated. University had become such an important growing experience for him. It was unfathomable that it was already almost over. Stu was well aware that he and his friends would try and make their own music, and he secretly hoped Murdoc would help him get a head start. Noodle had already been writing her own album that they would all work on, but Stu was sure that the music he’d been writing would work well for a for a debut. Thoughts swirling around his head, he was glad to be where he was. Stu spaced out most of the class and did the most to think about lyrics and musical arrangements. He tapped out a couple chords on the desk and hummed quietly, thinking of different chord progressions. 

Stu hadn’t realized he’d fallen asleep until he felt a hand in his hair. He looked up and blinked the blurry sleep from his eyes. A tall figure stood above him, and at the sight of the shaggy black hair, he thought it might’ve been Yukimi. As his eyes focussed more, he began to realize that it was someone far different. Murdoc Niccals himself stood above him, a concerned look on his face. Stu sat up and Murdoc retracted his hand. 

“Sh-Shit, what time is it? How long did I sleep?” he asked, looking around the empty classroom. Murdoc scoffed and leaned against the desk in front of him. Stuart looked at him, the man looked less tired than usual and he wore a pleasant smile.

“Don’t worry about it, kid,” he said but pushed back a laugh. “However, the school day is over,” he shrugged. Stuart felt his stomach drop, he missed all his classes. The entire day wasted away napping in Murdoc’s class. How did he sleep through the bells? Murdoc slapped a hand on his shoulder. “C’mon, I’ll drive you home,” he said and Stuart raised an eyebrow at him but gathered his stuff anyways. “Don’t want you catching a cold in this rain,” Murdoc mumbled after a moment.

Murdoc walked a few steps in front of Stu, leading him to his car. The two only getting a little wet before they hopped into Murdoc’s Camaro. It was a shitty old thing, and it reeked of cigarettes and stale alcohol. Stuart didn’t mind much, it reminded him of high school. The two drove silently aside from Stuart guiding Murdoc to his flat. As they got to the building, Murdoc grabbed an umbrella from beneath the beer cans on the floor of his car. Stuart offered a smile, assuming Murdoc was just going to hand him the umbrella, but instead he got out and walked around to Stuart’s side of the car. He opened the door and held the umbrella over their heads as he walked Stu to his door. The two stood under the umbrella, the rain falling unmercilessly around them. Stuart found himself in Murdoc’s eyes, he had such an intense look that captured Stu’s attention. Murdoc broke the odd eye contact by looking down at his shoes with a soft chuckle. He must’ve noticed the intensity of the moment, maybe he got uncomfortable.

“Your mates must be looking for you, I won’t keep you any longer,” he said and looked back up at Stuart with a smile. Stu let out a breathy laugh and felt the strangest urge to kiss the man. 

“Thank you,” he whispered instead, and opened the door and slipped inside, closing it roughly behind him. He slid against the door and onto the floor, rubbing his face. It was so unlike him, even as he hadn’t given his sexuality a second thought, he never thought he’d be into guys, let alone his professor. He dug his nails into his scalp and tugged at his blue locks. 

“Stu?” he heard a voice, it was Noodle. He looked up and saw her furrowed eyebrows above her green eyes. She walked over and kneeled down in front of him. “Are you alright?” she asked, removing his hands from his hair. 

Stu laughed, but that wasn’t the expected reaction to either of them. Noodle grabbed his hand and sat with him in silence. Stu didn’t know what to say, he was mainly confused. So he sat against the door and held Noodle’s hand, laughing hysterically. Noodle started out chuckling softly before joining him in their fits of laughter. Noodle fell against him and they sat together, laughing still. Even after their laughter had died, the two sat together against the door until Russel came home from his evening shift at the bar. 

Russel found the two curled up together on the dusty wooden floors, content smiles on their faces as they slept. Russel was already tired, but he decided to carry them to their individual rooms before retiring to bed. Russel wondered what could have happened for them to end up like they were. His questions would not be answered.

Stuart woke up early the next day. He found Noodle sitting at the dinner table with two plates of pancakes. She looked up at him and smiled. Stuart returned the smile and sat down in front of the food. They weren’t hot anymore, but Stuart wasn’t planning on saying anything now. He ate them in silence until Noodle spoke up.

“What happened last night?” she asked hesitantly, and Stuart looked at her. How did he answer that? Stuart didn’t know what to say, was he supposed to tell her now, or was he supposed to say something about Murdoc? 

“I… saw a man,” he said. And yes, it was true. He saw Murdoc with the intensity of a thousand soldiers. He watched Murdoc’s corpse-like body shudder with loneliness. Stuart’s vision connected with Noodles’ and she nodded.

“What was special about him that left you so speechless?” she asked, and Stuart remembered everything. His eyes, his skin, his smile, and his teeth. His lips and his hair, his laugh, his everything.

“The whiskey on his breath,” Stuart finally said, and Noodle seemed to understand. The two carried on with their breakfast in relative quiet. Stuart couldn’t stop thinking about the feeling of Murdoc’s hands in his hair. Noodle watched as Stuart stared out the window with a content smile on his face. She picked up her plate and left it in the sink before tapping Stuart on the head with his pill bottle. She set them beside him on the table and he huffed a laugh and thanked her quietly. 

Stuart looked at the pill bottle and popped two before grabbing his bag for class. The walk seemed so short, and he barely registered his own movements as he sat down in his usual spot. Yukimi arrived not long after him and tried talking to him but Stuart had so many thoughts swirling around his head that he couldn’t focus on the words leaving her lips. He interrupted her in the middle of a thought.

“I met someone,” he said and her eyes lit up as the previous statement died on her tongue. She grabbed his hands and then they started talking about it but she never once asked who it was. Stuart suspected she already knew. The two spoke until Murdoc showed up almost on time for class. He still seemed better rested and much less drunk, sober even. Stuart smiled upon seeing him and they made eye contact while Murdoc spoke, making Murdoc allow an occasional smile. The class seemed to go on forever until the bell rung and Stuart stayed in his seat. He waited until everyone was out of the classroom before approaching Murdoc’s desk. 

He was here, standing in front of Murdoc and yet he didn’t know what he stayed for. Murdoc was shuffling papers around his desk and he looked up at Stuart with a sly smile. Stuart wanted the intensity of their moment in the rain back, so in turn, he grabbed Murdoc by his turtleneck and slammed their lips together. It took a second for Murdoc to realize what happened but it was over as soon as it started. 

“I didn’t get to do that before,” Stuart said with a breathless smile. “Glad I did it now,” he hummed and began to leave but Murdoc grabbed his wrist.

“Not yet,” Murdoc said and pulled the boy close. Stu felt every ounce of hesitation dissolve as Murdoc kissed him.


	3. Tour Man Blues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of Stage 5? I wrote this before the new material came out so it's very messy. Pretty gay, super angsty. This was originally going to be a longer, separate fic but I rushed it and added in bits from something else I wrote. 4172 words.

Touring had always been Murdoc’s least favorite thing on the menu of musical artists. The traveling, the endless shows of the same set, the fans, the stage. Somehow, his frontman had made things a little easier. Even since their first performance, 2D had sung his heart out on ‘Ghost Train’ and wooed the audience with their English translation of ‘Latin Simone’. Murdoc always admired him for that, the shyness he showed offstage and the sexy confidence he projected when his feet hit the stage floor almost made him a different person. Murdoc and 2D shared cigarettes on the floor of his Winnebago, laughing any cares they may have had away. 2D would sing old songs they didn’t perform live and Murdoc would fish out aged bottles of whiskey and they would hold hands and get drunk together, falling asleep on the small cot, holding each other close. 2D was always gone when Murdoc woke up, and the anxiety of how he would react was present but the time never came when 2D confronted him about it. 

Murdoc knew how much it hurt his blue-haired singer to perform songs from Plastic Beach. He knew every song reminded him of the endless anger that Murdoc had taken out on him, the beatings and bruises and near death experiences. The horrific pain that Murdoc put him through was very reminiscent in the album, even if every song was written about the blue-haired boy. During the Plastic Beach tour, 2D didn’t spend much time with Murdoc. The most heartbreaking moment was when 2D played the heart-wrenching song ‘Broken’ on their last show and Murdoc could hear his boy’s voice cracking with every word and syllable. The audience had gone quiet, Russel silenced his drums, Murdoc had dropped his bass to stare at 2D with wide eyes, and Noodle mostly looked confused, and it was only Stuart’s voice, continuing despite the silence.

 _“Our love is broken,”_ he sobbed and fell to his knees. The hollowness of his voice echoed in the building. The audience maintained their silence as Murdoc gathered the boy in his arms and dragged him off stage. Noodle followed him backstage to check on their singer. 2D had collapsed in Murdoc’s arms and sobbed into his shirt as Murdoc whispered desperate apologies into his ear. Russel managed to apologize to the audience before joining his bandmates backstage. 

Noodle and Russel stood, confused, as Murdoc and 2D had their moment. The crowd behind them cheered them on even after the man’s emotional outburst. The applause was louder than ever, it was the sound of their endless support. 2D raised his head and laughed. Murdoc’s own tears were quickly blinked away at the sound. 2D got up and walked back on stage, grinning that gorgeous, toothless grin, even if it seemed hollow. He talked to the audience, something any of them rarely did. He spoke about the hardships of Plastic Beach but never once mentioned anything about Murdoc. He thanked them once more before coming backstage and excusing himself to his dressing room. When Murdoc had passed by the room on his way to the Winnebago, he heard muffled sobbing and it made his heart ache.

After the Plastic Beach tour, there was radio silence. He didn’t hear much from the others for ten years. It was a long time coming until he ran into Russel in New York and they inquired about a new album. They already had ideas and Murdoc remembered the familiar excitement of creating a new album with his three favourite people. The two had returned to London and rented a flat together before receiving calls from Noodle. The three met up and pondered where their beloved singer had gone off to. Noodle tried calling him and after a month of radio silence after those ten long years, they got a call from their bluenette. He was spending a holiday with his parents. Noodle spoke excitedly to the boy over the phone and even Russel spoke to him for a bit about coming to stay with them. At the time, Murdoc had found a house. The house was rumored to be haunted but it was nothing they hadn’t dealt with prior. 

The three decided to meet up and instead of visiting the house like Murdoc wanted, they partied for a couple weeks. Murdoc ended up purchasing the house one night while he was drunk. When they finally started moving in, the ghosts and demons were only a minor inconvenience. They immediately got working on the new album. After ten years, music was a blessing for all of them. However, 2D was increasingly distant from Murdoc. Noodle was extremely protective of him during this time as well. Despite being almost twenty years her senior, 2D was treated like a kicked puppy by the whole crew once he explained the extent of the events on Plastic Beach. Murdoc knew how much the whole thing hurt 2D and even though he was more than willing to forget, he wasn’t so sure if 2D was willing to forgive. Murdoc wanted to talk it out, but the words were never there. There were plenty of times when Murdoc had asked to talk with him and the conversations were always short-lived and never about the topic he wanted. 

Humanz was almost finished, and it was a terrible night for Murdoc. He was holed up in his Winnebago, drinking bottle after bottle of Jameson and Bacardi. Music blared loudly from his Winnie and soon enough, a knock came at the door.

“Who t’fuck is it?” Murdoc slurred, spilling whiskey on his bare chest. A small voice sounded from the door and he grunted for whoever to enter. Noodle appeared in front of him with her arms crossed over her chest. Murdoc grinned at her and offered the bottle. She pushed it away and stared down at him, her green eyes giving him an angry intensity that Murdoc couldn’t replicate.

“You’re drunk again,” she stated, and Murdoc knew he was in trouble. He sat up and raised his eyebrows at her before chuckling softly.

“What’s new? Come drink with me,” he said and offered the bottle to Noodle again. This time, she snatched it from his hands and began pouring it down the sink in the kitchenette. Murdoc jumped up and tried to grab the bottle but wasn’t able to, as Noodle had held the door open. She threw the bottle hard and it shattered against the concrete outside. Murdoc frowned and sat down on his bed again, rolling his eyes. “What d’you want, Noods?” he asked and she furrowed her thin brows.

“I’m getting 2D,” Noodle said and Murdoc launched himself forward, landing at her feet. She cast a glance at him, she looked irritated. 

“Please, love. There’s no need for that,” he was surprisingly coherent at this point, maybe the idea of talking to Stuart was enough to sober him up. Their conversations were never successful.

“Murdoc,” Noodle sighed and kneeled down in front of him. She took his face in her hands, “You need to talk to him, neither of you will get better unless you talk it out,” she said and Murdoc slowly nodded. “Thank you,” she whispered and Murdoc wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a half-assed hug. 

After a moment, Noodle pried herself away from Murdoc and left him alone in his Winnie. Murdoc looked around for something to drink and found nothing but more alcohol. By the time another timid knock came at his Winnie, he’d been staring at a bottle of Bacardi for ten minutes. He mumbled something incoherent and the door opened. Murdoc turned around to see 2D, looking mainly confused, in his doorway. The tall man looked tired, the bags under his eyes giving Murdoc an idea of how much sleep he was getting. There was a distant look in his eyes, and Murdoc knew then that 2D was high off his ass. Those painkillers definitely helped with the migraines, but when you’re taking more than prescribed, it becomes an issue. 

“Noodle told me you wanted to talk,” he said softly and Murdoc nodded and pointed to the bed. 2D sat down and put his hands in his lap. Murdoc sat beside him with his phone in hand.

“You know ‘m not good with words,” Murdoc said and tried to ignore the way 2D flinched when he got closer. Murdoc popped a pair of headphones into 2D’s ears. He played the song, it was from Plastic Beach. Murdoc’s favorite song, _Broken._ 2D frowned when he heard the music playing. He began to say something but Murdoc cut him off, “I wrote it about you.” 2D didn’t look like he had processed exactly what Murdoc said because he simply blinked at the words. “The whole album, I wrote it about you,” he repeated and sighed. 2D raised his eyes from the bed and looked at Murdoc. They just sat together as song after song played. Murdoc averted his eyes after a while and 2D continued to focus on Murdoc. 

2D took out the headphones and pressed them into Murdoc’s hand. “I need to go,” he said and stood up, leaving without another word. Murdoc gripped the headphones tightly in his palm and sighed. He knew it wouldn’t have worked, what a shitty apology. 

Murdoc turned to the blunts in his cabinet, he smoked one after another until he was high enough to temporarily forget about what had happened.

Murdoc’s cell was cold, it always had been and it never bothered him but something seemed wrong. He’d been in the prison for a while, a year at this point. It wasn’t his first time and certainly wasn’t his last. From the moment he woke up, he knew something was different. His cellmate snored above him and he grumbled, sitting up in the cot. He reached for his necklace for the comfort it usually brought but it was gone. He had forgotten the facility had taken it. They saw it as a potential weapon, and frankly, Murdoc would never stoop so low as to use a symbol of his religion to harm someone else. 

Murdoc went through most of the day uneasy and instead of his usual quips and snarky remarks, he was quiet. He ate breakfast by himself and was mainly left alone by his mates. They seemed to sense something was wrong as well and thankfully decided to leave him to his thoughts.

It wasn’t until later in the day when he was dozing off in his cell, thinking about oddball lyrics when a guard tapped the cell bars with his baton. Murdoc opened his eyes and looked up at the man. “You got a visitor, Niccals,” he said and Murdoc furrowed his brows in confusion but silently complied and allowed the guard to lead him into the visitation room. 

Murdoc realized he’d never been inside the room before. It was a warm room with potted plants and lots of tables full of people crying or yelling. It was chaotic and emotional. Murdoc glanced around and felt his stomach drop when he spots the shaggy mop of bright blue hair.

2D sat at a small table, fidgeting with his hands. The guard led him to the table and left to stand by the entrances with the other guards. Murdoc sat down and stared at 2D with wide eyes. 2D offered a weak smile, but he stayed quiet. Murdoc looked around and leaned forward on the table, and 2D instinctively leaned back. The action made Murdoc frown. “Just you?” he asked quietly, regretting how disappointed he sounded.

“Just me,” 2D said and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. Murdoc hated the way 2D was always so cautious and careful around him as if Murdoc would snap at any moment. 

Murdoc let out a shaky sigh and looked into 2D’s big eyes. His eyes were far from empty, despite the fractures. They always held so much emotion and Murdoc could barely read the mix of hundreds of feelings in the boy’s eyes. “You look good, ‘D,” Murdoc said with a pathetic half-smile. Despite being away from his bandmate for over a year, he couldn’t find the right words.

2D laughed, a faint pink dusting his pale cheeks, “You’re not lookin’ too bad either, Muds. How are you?” 2D asked, a very cautious tone around that question. Murdoc hated it.

“This place soddin’ sucks. It’s painfully dull,” he said with an eye roll that made 2D smile. Then it dawned on him, “How did you know where I was?” Murdoc asked and 2D tensed and laughed nervously. The response made Murdoc furrow his eyebrows.

“I... called around and, um,” he paused and brought one of his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around it. A defensive position. “I called all the prisons I thought you’d be in. I must’ve called a thousand,” he hummed in wonderment at his own dedication. “Until I found you, and then I made an appointment to come visit you because...” he stopped. Murdoc leaned forward more and placed his hands on the table.

“Because?” The bassist pushed and 2D frowned.

“I missed you. I was worried, I know you’d got locked up before but... I don’t know,” 2D said, the corners of his mouth twitching in an almost smile. Murdoc stared at the boy and he could feel the anger bubbling to the surface. Why would 2D waste his time trying to find him of all people? The thought of this poor boy calling prison after prison, _‘Hello, my name is Stuart and I was wondering if you are housing a piece of human garbage by the name of Murdoc Niccals?’_

Murdoc’s eyes widened slightly, “How long did it take you to find me?” he asked, sounding scared of the answer. 2D’s frown deepened.

“Three months,” he said simply, glancing at one of the guards. It was a shifty gesture but Murdoc never saw 2D as a shifty type. 2D opened his mouth to say something else but quickly closed it. Murdoc sent him a look that made him sigh. “I brought you something,” he mumbled so softly that Murdoc barely caught it.

“What?” This visit was a confusing one. 2D showing up after a year, and he brought gifts? Murdoc was more confused than angry at this point and 2D waved a guard over and the guard smiled at him.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Pot?” the man asked and Murdoc snorted. 2D waved his hands to dismiss the formality. His blue hair was a dead giveaway, celebrities weren’t a common sight in prison.

“Just call me Stu, mate. I was wondering what the protocol is for outside items? I brought some things for my mate here and I wanted to make sure that was okay,” he said, his flawless charisma made Murdoc smile. The guard thought for a moment and asked to see the items, and that’s when 2D brought out two journals, some pens and a pack of cigarettes. The guard nodded and excused himself. 2D, looking pleased with himself, turned back to Murdoc. He smiled, “I hope you don’t mind. I thought you would want something to write songs in.” 

Murdoc was astonished, astounded, synonyms for the right word. It just seemed so unbelievable that 2D, that sweet boy, would go out of his way to make sure Murdoc was okay. It was an uncomfortable feeling, the nerve chewing at his insides like tiny hungry spiders. 2D gave him an odd look and tilted his head to the side. He’d been silent for too long, just staring at 2D’s face. His dark eyes- if you looked hard enough you could still see the outlines of his irises in the endless abyss. His lips, his nose, his cheekbones, his jawline, his everything. Murdoc loved admiring 2D’s features, he was the perfect front man. He always had been, from the first moment Murdoc saw him stand up from that car crash.

2D’s sweet laugh brought Murdoc from his thoughts, “Seems I’ve got you speechless,” he grinned. Murdoc scoffed at this and leaned back in his chair. 2D put his leg down and put his elbows on the table. It was like a push and pull between them.

“Where are Noodle and Russel? Have you spoken to them lately?” Murdoc asked, vaguely concerned of the whereabouts of his bandmates. He missed them, as much as he would never admit it out loud. Noodle was much like a daughter to him, she was so important to him.

2D shook his head, “Last I saw Noods, she was with this guy Ace in the states or something along those lines,” he said with a shrug. “I think Russel went back to the house... I haven’t heard from him in a while. I’ve just been around,” he explained and Murdoc frowned. A young girl, not so young now, with some guy?

“You been workin’ on any new music?” Murdoc joked and 2D grinned. This reminded him too much of old times, easier times. When it wasn’t a prison visit and it was just the four of them writing music. Murdoc missed those times. 2D went on about the tour and how it was always so bright and full of life. _Much like yourself, ‘D._ Murdoc had thought.

They kept talking, and soon enough the guard returned with the ‘gifts’ 2D had brought. He explained that they needed to make sure there was nothing dangerous in them and 2D had waved off the caution with an understanding smile. Then the guard asked for his autograph in the least subtle way and the request made 2D blush and laugh. That’s when he asked the guard if there was a secure area where he could have a smoke with Murdoc. The guard nodded and led them to a fenced-in patio outside the visitation room where Stu picked a lighter from his pocket and unwrapped the cigarettes. Murdoc was speechless, in the year he was gone, 2D had grown so much. He handed Murdoc a cigarette wordlessly and the man was grateful. The two smoked in silence in the presence of the guard. It was daylight out, though it felt much later.

Murdoc took his time to look at Stu. That blue hair always got to him, and that toothless smile. Murdoc made a confused sound before stuttering, “Thank you, Stu. If I’m bein’ honest, it’s been a lonely year.” 

2D nodded, “I can imagine, this place is like a soddin’ cage,” he said with a sad smile. It wasn’t pitiful, Murdoc knew that, but it made that odd chewing feeling in his stomach rise up again. “The tour wasn’t the same without you,” 2D mumbled after a time, smoke wrapping around his words. Murdoc responded with a silent nod. The two finished their smokes in silence and 2D thanked the guard as he led them back inside. 2D checked his watch and frowned.

“I better be off,” he said and shifted his feet. It was a nervous action. “Murdoc, can I hug you?” he asked cautiously and Murdoc felt himself twitching for the ache of human warmth. He nodded and 2D grinned, wrapping his long arms around Murdoc’s waist and pulling him into the warmth the bassist missed so much. Murdoc buried his face into 2D’s neck and inhaled his cologne, trying to memorize his smell. Their touch lingered, however, it felt like not long enough when they parted and 2D’s eyes seemed to hover over Murdoc’s until they said their goodbyes. 2D promised to visit again and Murdoc knew the boy made good on his promises. 

Their interaction didn’t last long enough because soon enough, Murdoc sat in his cold cell, clutching the journals close to his chest. He missed his blue-haired singer already. He hated being so alone in the concrete cage. It was suffocating.

2D visited him four times more before Murdoc finally got out. It seemed like a millennia before he was able to hold 2D again and smell his cologne stained with the smell of cigarettes. Even after everything that happened, especially Plastic Beach, Murdoc was surprised that Stu was so warm. The caution always remained, and it pained to see the boy even flinch when he raised his voice. 

The spirit house was just as it was, dusty and creaking with age. Murdoc learned more of what 2D had been up to when he left the house once a week at the same time. He hadn’t expected the event to be weekly therapy sessions. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. 2D always scribbling in his journal, the way he carried himself with newfound confidence, the new amount of laughter and smiles. He was happy. It was a sight to see, 2D closing the door behind him when he came back, a content smile on his face that was usually stained with old tears. Murdoc had seen it as a good thing until 2D spoke up about it. It was a lazy Sunday, the two were quiet amongst the house. 2D making tea in the kitchen and Murdoc dozing off on the couch.

“You should come with me,” he began, a nervous energy around the words. “Just once, if you wanted. I think it might be good,” he said with a smile on his lips and hope in his eyes. “You don’t have to, if you’d rather not,” 2D quickly added.

Murdoc frowned, “You know how I am about my emotions, ‘D,” he said and 2D rolled his eyes playfully. “I’ve been better, I don’t need therapy,” he continued and 2D sat beside him on the couch, his fingers wrapped gingerly around a warm mug. Murdoc could smell the peppermint from where he sat.

“It’s not what you think it is, it’s just talkin’,” 2D had countered, and with the tone in his voice, Murdoc almost caved. “And you know I can do that for hours,” he joked with a grin before sipping his tea.

Murdoc chuckled and nodded, “It’s just not for me, Tuss,” he said, unable to make up an excuse good enough for 2D. He’d already heard all of Murdoc’s excuses, there weren’t many more to make up. After that, 2D had stopped asking.

About a month later, 2D got a call from Noodle. Murdoc only heard one half of it. 2D had a worried tone and Murdoc feared something had happened to her, or Russel. 

“Noodle, how’re you doin’, love?” A pause. “That’s great, but, uh, hey. Murdoc’s back,” Another pause, and 2D sent him a wink before standing up. “No, he’s been okay. Nothing bad, love. You don’t need to worry about him,” he said. 2D laughed, “Yeah, yeah. How’s Ace doin’?” and the rest of the conversation was lost as he stepped outside. Murdoc knew what Noodle was worried about. She was worried that Murdoc had hurt 2D again. It pained him to know that that was what she thought of him. She was like a daughter to him, always had been. To think that she saw him as an abusive monster made guilt and anger stir inside him. When 2D came back inside, he wore the same smile he usually wore these days. Murdoc stood up and immediately wrapped his arms around the boy’s waist. _He’s not a boy anymore. He’s almost forty, you can’t keep holding onto his youth._ Murdoc thought as 2D tensed up at the sudden contact. Murdoc needed to say something but his voice wasn’t cooperating. “Muds, what’s wrong?” he asked but Murdoc responded by pulling the man closer.

“I’m… sorry,” Murdoc said softly, not trusting his voice. 2D let out a breathy laugh and gently placed his hands on Murdoc’s back. “I’m sorry that I hurt you, I…” he stopped and took a breath. “I never wanted to hurt you, I didn’t. I never did, I promise, Stu I never wanted to hurt you,” he rambled, feeling the thickness in his throat and the stinging of tears in his eyes. “You’ll never know how much I care about you, Stu. I’m so sorry,” he said, allowing the tears to fall. Murdoc couldn’t remember the last time he cried. He didn’t expect to be holding 2D close and crying into his shirt, soaking the cloth with his tears.

“I know, Muds. I’ve always known,” 2D whispered and pulled back, seeing Murdoc’s face flushed red with tears. He was a sniffling mess, and 2D had never seen him so raw and unfiltered. No one had, in fact. 2D wiped away Murdoc’s tears, reminding the bassist of the gentle voice Stu used when Noodle was a child. It was the same thing, the soft voice, the gentle touch. The _kindness._


	4. Youth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> High School AU! I actually really liked this and I was also going to write it as a separate work but I never finished it. Murdoc is the 'bad boy' and Stuart is super popular. 5560 words.

Murdoc was a bitter child. He never became any different. Always a bitter, resentful boy. This followed him into high school, where his bitterness turned into rebellion and cockiness. He was known as the ‘bad boy’. Frankly, he adored the term, being known as the ‘bad boy’ got him laid by various individuals. Murdoc had never been the picky type when it came to late night lovers. High school, although insignificant, made itself out to be very fun when it came to parties. Murdoc found himself getting piss-drunk at some party after a home game on more than one occasion. His favorite part was loading his Camaro with alcohol stolen from the party and calling the police while he was actively driving away, ending the party as soon as he left. Murdoc had a lot of laughs with his shitty friends who only stuck around so they could all play loud music from Billy Boy’s garage late at night and get drunk. Then he would go home and play his bass, dubbed ‘El Diablo’, all through the nights his father wasn’t home. 

For Murdoc, home wasn’t the ideal place to be. It wasn’t a place of safety and solace that most people thought it to be. Home was the nesting place of a creature that reeks of alcohol and attacked on sight. Murdoc often spent nights in his car, avoiding his father so adamantly that he preferred the cold leather of his Caramo. Murdoc took care of himself, he always had. He never allowed anyone to see the way he lived because he knew they would want to help him. Murdoc knew how to help himself, he didn’t need that of others. He worked at the local music store selling vinyl and taught bass lessons to young kids on the weekends. He made enough money to do what he loved and stay away from his father. 

High school had proven to be insignificant until he met Stuart Pot. Stuart was a second year but Murdoc had thought he was a fourth year like him, due to his immense height. Even despite his class, he has accumulated a following of sorts. A popularity. He attracted people everywhere he went. Stuart was a walking magnet, pulling everyone towards him. He made friends with everyone he met with that bright smile and sweet laugh. Murdoc hated him. He was so cheerful and excited about everything. And although Murdoc found his electric blue hair curious, he refused to give in to the boy’s charm.

This seemingly simple task proved to be increasingly difficult as the school year went on. Murdoc saw the boy everywhere. He passed his lanky figure walking home almost every day, he saw him in the hallways and after school- always surrounded by crowds of people. Murdoc saw Stuart at least four times a day, maybe more if he was having a particularly bad day. He would spot his blue hair from across the hall and groan inwardly before turning around and making a quick escape. If he did run into him in the halls, Murdoc would always knock against him roughly, usually causing the boy to drop anything he held or even fall to the ground, where his swarm of friends would help him up and glare in Murdoc’s direction. Murdoc had never met Stuart personally and the thought of meeting him made his stomach churn. He was okay with his little group of shitty friends and their shitty activities. Adding an outside force to his friendship ideals was too much work. Murdoc was always a solitary creature and despite having actual friends, he much preferred it that way. Stuart Pot was one of the only people he despised almost as much as his father.

When Murdoc spot the mop of blue hair in his art class, he cursed the school system for bringing him closer to the boy. The teacher had created a seating chart, and Murdoc scoffed at the idea. She treated them like children and Murdoc was almost eighteen. As she directed students to specified tables, Murdoc glanced around and at the remaining students he might have to deal with for the year. He noticed Stuart was one of those people. Murdoc groaned inwardly and considered leaving. And as if the devil himself were cursing Murdoc’s already horrible luck, he sat in front of Stuart. The teacher got to work with showing them what they were doing for their first project. Murdoc barely paid attention but directed his focus to the blue-haired boy that he would be forced to interact with every day for the rest of the year. 

_“How lovely,”_ Murdoc thought bitterly as he propped his head up with his hands. As he examined Stuart, he noticed the boy had genuinely pretty features. He had big blue eyes and a wide, happy smile. His nose was small and button-like. Murdoc hated to admit that he found the boy beautiful, at least. The blue hair was curious though, it was either a perfect dye job or some freak accident. Murdoc allowed his mind to wander around possibilities.

As the teacher finally stopped her droning, Murdoc felt himself waking up a little bit. She had a monotone voice and made everything she said extremely boring. Murdoc sighed and assumed he had to do something, or at least look like he was doing something. The teacher had retired to her desk and was working on something herself. Murdoc looked up and saw Stuart giving him a smile. Murdoc blinked and raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Hello, my name’s Stu,” he said and tapped his fingers on the table. Murdoc wanted to roll his eyes but he stopped himself. He’d throw on that cool, uncaring mask around this boy just to make himself look good.

“Pleasure to meet you, love. The name’s Murdoc,” he replied, propping his feet up on the empty chair beside him. He thought there was someone else at their table, but it was only the two of them. Stuart grinned at Murdoc’s response and started to get out something from his bag. It was a sketchbook. _“Oh shit, I forgot about that,”_ Murdoc thought, making a mental note to get one that night. The longer Murdoc stared at the boy in front of him, the more his blue hair was bothering him. Why was it so vibrant? And more importantly, where were his roots? Murdoc had dyed his hair before, he knew how it worked, so why did Stuart’s hair look so perfect? Murdoc found himself speaking before his mind could process his actions. “What’s up with your hair?” he asked, a curiosity in his voice that made him cringe. Stuart looked up from his sketchbook.

Those baby blue eyes bore into Murdoc’s with an unadulterated intensity that Murdoc had never seen. Something was seriously off about this kid. Stuart smiled and laughed softly. “I fell out of a tree when I was a wee one, caused all my hair to fall out and grow back blue,” he explained with a shrug. Murdoc nodded and with his curiosity satisfied, he continued to ignore the boy across from him. He plugged in his headphones and played his music over the chatter of the class. He stared straight ahead and ignored the way those baby blue eyes sent him glances every minute or so.

About halfway into class, a small girl walked calmly in and handed a note to the teacher. The teacher pointed to Murdoc’s table and the girl nodded and strolled over. She gave Murdoc a look and motioned towards his feet that rested on her chair. Murdoc shrugged with a smirk and the girl rolled her eyes and shoved his feet off with an unexpected force. Stuart snorted at the action and Murdoc glared at them both before regaining his balance and straightening his back in the chair.

Stuart and the girl started talking and Murdoc had paused his music to eavesdrop. He learned the girl’s name was Noodle and that she was an exchange student from Japan. Noodle was a first year and her English was surprisingly good for having been in London for less than six months. Murdoc could hear an English accent forming in her voice. Murdoc had played his music again after he got bored of listening to their conversation.

Murdoc had heard rumours of Stuart Pot’s musical abilities. He had heard that he played the piano like the reincarnation of Mozart himself. He had heard that the boy’s voice was akin to angels singing. Murdoc would never admit it, but he was extremely eager to hear what he sounded like. All this talk, and he was sure Stuart’s annoyingly pitchy speaking voice couldn’t translate into something beautiful. 

His concerns were crushed when he passed by the choir room one Friday after school. Murdoc had stayed after to talk to one of his teachers and he was leaving through the back when he heard some of the most gorgeous piano chords sounding loudly from the room. He snuck a peek in the window and saw Stuart sitting at the grand piano, his back to the door. Murdoc stopped and pressed his ear against the wood. He stood by the door and listened, hearing the chords ringing effortlessly. Murdoc slid down to the ground and leaned against it, staying quiet as to not be detected by the boy inside. He felt his mind wandering, hearing the soul in the music and thinking of corresponding bass notes and rhythms to add. Murdoc was surprised to hear Stuart begin to sing. His voice was heavenly. He wouldn’t have described it as angelic but it was raspy and light. Murdoc was so entranced by what he heard that he had forgotten he was supposed to be staying hidden until his phone went off.

A classic rock song blared from his phone and he was brought out of his stupor to fumble with his phone and end the incoming call from one of his friends. In his struggle, the music inside had stopped. Murdoc felt the fear gripping his stomach with fresh claws, and he heard approaching footsteps.

The door opened and Murdoc glanced up at Stuart, who wore a smug smile. Stuart laughed softly and kept the door open, motioning for Murdoc to come inside. Murdoc frowned and considered bolting for his car, but he stood up, grabbed his bag and followed Stuart inside. 

The two were quiet for a moment and Murdoc stood beside the piano as Stuart sat back down. Murdoc said nothing. “I didn’t think you liked piano,” Stuart said and tapped out a small progression, a content smile on his face.

Murdoc shook his head, “I find it quite lovely, actually.” He had no idea how to talk to Stuart. Everything about him was overwhelming. His messy blue hair, his baby blue eyes, his singing, his piano playing. Murdoc glanced at the storage door in the room and remembered the old bass guitar the choir director kept in there. He walked over without a word and opened the door, spotting the peeling blue paint in the corner. He grabbed it and plucked some strings, hearing it awfully out of tune. He closed the door to the storage room and returned to where Stuart was sitting. He plugged it into one of the amps laying around. Murdoc claimed the edge of the piano seat and tuned the bass by ear, he had done it so many times at the music shop that it was barely second nature to him. He started plucking a couple strings and felt the energy of playing come back. Then he started playing a slow, simple beat. 

Stuart grinned and started singing, _“Well, I’m buildin’ a highway back, back to the heart of things. No love left to walk back, back to the heart of things. So, I'm building above and back, all our city gone red. When I get it all from you, I'm gonna get it all true, true,”_ he sang and then started playing a funky piano progression. They continued playing like that, Stuart with his piano and his amazing voice, and Murdoc with his bass guitar. Murdoc had no idea how Stuart was able to play that song from the top of his head, assuming he had made it up as he went. After a moment, Stuart stopped and so did Murdoc. Stuart let out a happy sigh and laughed quietly before looking to Murdoc. “I knew that song needed something, but I couldn’t place what it was. Looks like all I needed what a little something extra,” he said. Murdoc blinked, Stuart had written that song. The shock settled in and he felt himself becoming uncomfortable with the causality of their setting. Murdoc nodded and stood up, putting the bass back and walking out without another word. 

Murdoc made a beeline for his car and drove away. The ride was silent and he parked in front of his house. He stayed in the car, not wanting to see his father at the moment. The old man’s truck was in the driveway, so he wasn’t out drinking. Murdoc parked further down the street and sat in his car for the night. Time passed slowly in the leather seats.

When Murdoc came back to school the next Monday, Stuart was nowhere to be found. He wasn’t in class and Murdoc didn’t find him in the choir room. He tried to ask Noodle but she didn’t know much either. Sooner or later, the buzz of what happened to Stuart came back to Murdoc. Stuart had been involved in a huge car collision on his ride home. A friend had driven him. Stuart had flown out of his seat and landed in the wreckage after they got hit the first time. Six cars were involved, one of them a drunk driver. Stuart was currently in the hospital being treated. No one knew the damage, or if he was even conscious at that point. Murdoc felt endlessly guilty for just leaving the boy at the school without offering him a ride home. 

The guilt ate at him until he found himself driving to the hospital after school had ended. Murdoc walked into the hospital, Cuban heels clicking on the tile and his leather jacket pulled close around his torso. The building smelled sterile and it made him sick to his stomach. He strolled up to the desk and asked to see Stuart Pot, to which the nurse had him sign in and gave him the room number. Murdoc felt silly walking down the white hallways clad in all black. He found the room fairly quickly and placed a soft knock on the door, to which the voice of another man granted him entrance. Murdoc opened the door and closed it behind him. He saw Stuart, who laid on his side facing a black man with a solemn expression. The man raised an eyebrow at Murdoc.

“Who’re you?” he asked, and Murdoc was surprised to find an American accent in his words. He was suspicious of Murdoc and had every right to be. Murdoc sat down across from him on the other side of Stuart’s bed. 

“Murdoc Niccals, at your service,” he hummed and leaned back in the chair, eyeing Stuart’s unmoving body curiously. Murdoc could see that he was at least breathing, but as soon as his name left his lips, Stuart sat up and looked at him.

The shock was unnerving. Stuart’s once baby blues had been replaced by deep black marblesque eyes. Murdoc kept his composure and Stuart’s face changed from an annoyed glare to a more calmed, secure look. Stuart said nothing and laid back down. The man beside him sighed and offered his hand to Murdoc from across the bed.

Murdoc gingerly took it, “I’m Russel, a friend of Stu’s. I was… the one driving,” he said and frowned. Murdoc could tell he felt guilty about what happened. He was driving and maybe he was little too risky with his driving decisions. Stuart spoke up from the bed.

“I already told you it’s not your fault, Russ,” he said and Murdoc blinked. His voice had lost its’ happy tone. The blue haired boy sounded broken, his voice was raspy and thick with either sleep or unshed tears. Murdoc couldn’t tell. Russel sighed at Stuart and glanced at Murdoc before Stuart whispered something to him. Russel’s frown deepened but he got up and left the room, leaving Murdoc alone with Stuart. Stuart sat up slowly and sent Murdoc a glance but their eye contact didn’t hold for very long. “You didn’t freak out,” Stu said softly and Murdoc blinked.

“Why would I?” Murdoc asked as if he didn’t already know the answer. The boy looked like a blue-haired, black-eyed alien. When he spoke, Murdoc saw his two front teeth were missing as well. Stuart’s face was bruised in multiple places and there were cuts and stitches littering his arms and face.

“I look like I belong in a haunted carnival ride,” he said and Murdoc wanted to smile at the adorable pout on his face. Murdoc shook his head with a half-hearted chuckle. 

“I think you look badass,” he said and Stuart raised an eyebrow. “Who else do you know has your look? No one. You’re even more spectacular than you were before,” the words flowed effortlessly from Murdoc’s mouth and he regrets them all almost immediately. Stuart’s eyes widened and his previous frown morphed into a big, toothless grin. Murdoc didn’t expect to hear a sweet giggle leave his lips. 

“You really think that, Murdoc?” he asked, and Murdoc raised an eyebrow and nodded. Stuart’s cheeks were dusted with pink and despite the bruises, the cuts and stitches, he looked just as beautiful. The two sat in comfortable silence, with Stuart’s attention more focused on the big window by his bed and Murdoc eyes examining every little detail of the boy’s face. The minimal sunlight shined through the window, hitting Stuart’s features at odd angles. The clouds had covered the sun but there were small gaps of sunlight that escaped. 

The sound of the door opening brought Murdoc out of his thoughts. A nurse came in and walked over to Stuart, checking his vitals but not without poking and prodding at his face. Stuart smiled softly and pushed her hands away.

“Mum, I’m alright,” he said with a quiet chuckle. The nurse was his mother, Murdoc found that good to know. The woman frowned and pushed Stuart’s hair out of his face.

“You’re healing, Stu. You don’t have to be alright if you’re healing,”she said and turned to Murdoc. Stuart’s mother gave him an odd glance. She looked just like him, the same big, bright baby blue eyes and shoulder length brown hair. Murdoc assumed she was in her forties or fifties, now that he could see her face. “Who might you be? Stu didn’t tell me about any visitors other than Russel,” she inquired, narrowing her eyes at him. As deeply as Murdoc wanted to blow her off and be rude but he could tell she meant a lot to Stuart. He tried to keep it appropriate, respectful. Murdoc cleared his throat and offered a smile.

“My name is Murdoc Niccals. I heard about what happened from some people at school and I wanted to come check up on him,” he said and her eyes lit up. Murdoc suspected Stuart didn’t bring many friends home, despite his popularity.

She grinned. “Stu has mentioned you, yes. I’m Rachel, it’s a pleasure to meet one of Stu’s new friends,” she said and shook his hand enthusiastically. Murdoc felt his gut twitch at the thought that Stuart spoke about him, to his family nonetheless. Murdoc spoke with Rachel about Stu’s condition before making his exit. He wanted to spend more time with Stuart but he knew he was overstaying his visit.

Murdoc knew he wasn’t welcome when he spots Russel outside the hospital, sitting on a bench. When Russel saw him leaving, he got up and approached Murdoc. With the look on his face, Murdoc half expected steam to be coming out of his ears. Russel stepped so close to him that Murdoc could smell the coffee on his breath. Murdoc didn’t even flinch at the aggression and just raised an eyebrow at him. 

“You need to stay far away from him,” he growled, and Murdoc scoffed. “I know what you do, Niccals. You break people, don’t come around here again,” Russel said. Murdoc rolled his eyes, a grin on his lips.

“I’m not the one who put him in the hospital,” Murdoc said with a light shrug and walked off to his car. Murdoc let out a breath when he sat down on the cool leather seats. There was a gnawing at his stomach that he wasn’t used to. He didn’t like the feeling of centipedes crawling around the lining of his stomach with their millions of legs. Murdoc couldn’t place why he felt it, but he tried his best to ignore it as he drove to the music shop.

The next time Murdoc saw Stuart, it was in his own workplace. Murdoc was sitting behind the counter, replacing the strings on an old Telecaster for a client. He was humming along to the quiet music that played from the record player at the front of the store. The door chimed as someone entered and Murdoc saw the spark of blue and black. Stuart looked around, hands deep in his pockets. His headphones were plugged in and his head swayed softly to his own music. His black eyes wandered around the store, eyeing the guitars that hung on the walls until he locked eyes with Murdoc. Murdoc blinked and Stuart grinned at him. His teeth were still missing, and a large gap remained where his front teeth should be. Stuart took out his headphones and walked over to the counter, leaning on his elbows.

“Fancy meeting you here, Dents,” Murdoc said, breaking the eye contact to continue wrapping the strings. Stuart gave him an odd look at the nickname. “Y’know, ‘cause you got two dents in your head,” he explained and picked up the guitar, tuning it by ear. Stuart laughed softly and nodded.

“A horrible nickname, really,” Stuart said and shrugged but glanced around. “Where are your keys?” he asked, curiosity glittering in his black marblesque eyes. Murdoc thought for a second that he was talking about his car keys but realized he meant keyboards. Murdoc nodded and motioned for Stuart to follow him. Murdoc guided the boy to the back of the store, where a glossy, black grand piano sat, untouched. It was surrounded by keyboards and other musical oddities. Murdoc wished he would have captured the look on Stuart’s face when he saw the piano. There was wonderment and awe in his eyes, and a grin stretched his cheeks. He sat down and maintained that sweet smile as his fingers brushed over the ivory. Murdoc sat down on a stool with the guitar and watched Stuart’s cautious movements. Stuart began tapping out a progression before beginning to sing. _“Up on Melancholy Hill, are you here with me? Just looking out on the day of another dream. Where you can't get what you want but you can get me. So let's set out to sea. ‘Cause you are my medicine when you're close to me, when you're close to me,”_ he sang, attracting more clients around the store. Murdoc watched in awe as he continued, barely noticing the people surrounding him. They seemed enchanted by his voice and his pianism. Murdoc was no doubt impressed by his skill but he would have loved to get ahold of what deep, horrible thoughts conjured up those heartbreaking lyrics. 

As Stuart finished his song, Murdoc was the first to begin clapping and soon the entire store was cheering and loud applause shook the walls. Stuart hadn’t noticed the crowd around him and his face flushed a deep red. He thanked the group and they slowly disbanded, leaving him and Murdoc alone. Stuart had buried his face in his hands and was groaning in embarrassment. He sat on the piano seat and sighed. Murdoc sat beside him and chuckled, nudging Stu with his shoulder.

“You’re really quite amazing,” he said softly and Stuart pulled his hands away from his face. His cheeks were red and his eyebrows were furrowed in embarrassment. Murdoc felt that centipede feeling in his stomach again and cursed all things unholy for creating a creature as beautiful as Stuart. Murdoc knocked their knees together and put a hand on the back of Stu’s neck, ruffling his hair before standing up. “I’ve got some lessons soon, but I’m not opposed to giving you my number. We could do something like this again,” Murdoc said and leaned nonchalantly against the piano, trying to keep his cool. Stuart smiled and nodded before handing Murdoc his phone. Murdoc tried to conceal the way his hands trembled with excitement as he typed in his phone number. Murdoc smirked and waved to the bluenette before disappearing into the back rooms, his bass in hand. 

Once he was behind closed doors, he let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He let a grin form on his lips as he continued on with his day, teaching kids how to play the bass guitar.

Murdoc had eagerly waited to receive a text from Stuart, and when the time came it was much later in the day. They talked back and forth for an hour or so until Stuart offered to go meet up at the park. Murdoc knew that park, it was around the corner from his own house. Murdoc glanced outside and noticed the moon was taking its’ place in the sky. He questioned Stuart’s idea and Stuart explained that the sun usually made his head hurt, and he preferred to go out at night. Murdoc assumed that it was better, he couldn’t ruin his reputation when no one could see you feeding ducks with your polar opposite. He agreed and twenty minutes later, he sat waiting for Stuart in the park. Murdoc had planted himself on one of the swings, slowly swaying back and forth, a cigarette between his fingers. He inhaled and let the tobacco burn his lungs before he exhaled. 

Murdoc heard someone walking behind him and made no move to turn around, he only moved when he saw Stuart drop his lanky body onto the swing beside him and begin swinging. Due to his long limbs, he was having a little bit of trouble. His long legs made his feet hit the ground no matter how hard he tried. Murdoc chuckled at the sight and Stuart grinned.

“Kind of a lost cause, huh?” Murdoc joked, letting out another soft laugh. He glanced at the cigarette in his hand and thought about asking if Stuart minded the smoke but remembered his reputation. Not really one for politeness.

Stuart must’ve seen the glance and the way the highlights in his eyes moved, Murdoc assumed he was rolling his eyes at his actions. “Do you think I could bum one off of you?” Stuart had asked, and Murdoc raised an eyebrow and nodded. He pulled one out of the pack in his coat pocket, along with the lighter, and offered it to Stuart, who took it gratefully. Murdoc instinctively reached over to light it for him, as he had done a hundred times with his own friends. Stuart looked taken aback at the barely insignificant action, being so close to someone with a flame between you really got the blood pumping. Stuart cleared his throat and took a long drag, it had been a while since he had a cigarette and the familiar burn in his throat made him smile. 

The two sat in silence for a moment, enjoying their cigarettes and each other’s company. Murdoc had almost forgotten about anything he may, or may not, have been feeling for the blue-haired beauty beside him. Murdoc again felt the stirring feeling in his gut when he looked over at Stuart. He looked beautiful. The light of the nearby street lights illuminating his features in the dark. He looked so concentrated on the cigarette between his fingers but his face was calm. The entire moment was so serene and Murdoc soaked in every second. 

Stuart glanced at Murdoc with his shining black marbles for eyes. Murdoc huffed and looked back down to the cigarette that was now burnt down to the filter. He snuffed it out while Stuart chuckled slightly as if he hadn’t just caught Murdoc staring at him with desperate longing. Stuart tossed his cigarette and decided to break the silence. “Why d’you hate me so much?” he asked, yet he didn’t sound as angry as the question might suggest. He sounded amused. Murdoc raised an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?” he inquired, narrowing his eyes at Stuart, who wore a smile. Murdoc knew why Stuart thought he hated him, but he wanted to hear it.

“Y’know, the pushin’ and shovin’. You knocked into me and glared at me whenever you could,” he laughed. “I made it my goal to not be bothered by you, but all my friends hated you more than you probably hated me,” he said and grinned his toothless smile and Murdoc sighed.

“I never hated you, Stu,” this statement was obviously very startling to him. Stuart’s eyes went wide and he looked perplexed. “I envied you,” Murdoc continued, using his heels to push himself softly on the swing. “I envied how happy you were, how you always had a crowd who cherished the ground you walked on,” he let out a bitter laugh. “It pissed me off,” he said and didn’t dare look at Stuart now. Murdoc had to keep his composure, if he cracked now it would be the end of him.

Stuart stared at him in shock. This was the real reason Murdoc treated him so poorly, but he seemed so soft now. He was vulnerable at this moment and Stuart laughed quietly. “Y’know, I only have two friends outside of all those people that I actually talk to,” Murdoc sent him a look. “No, really. The others like me for my status, if you could even call it that,” he shrugged. “Russel is really one of my only friends, Noodle too. It kind of sucks,” he frowned and Murdoc met his eyes again. Stuart had a content smile on his face. Despite how fabricated his social persona was, he seemed perfectly happy. 

Murdoc didn’t know what he wanted to do now. Stuart was here, with him, in the most impossibly possible circumstances. So instead of dwelling on the way Stuart’s hair looked so soft, he pulled out his pack of cigarettes and took another from the pack. He offered it to Stuart who also took one. Murdoc lit Stuart’s first out of courtesy, and then his own. The two sat in a sort of quiet that wasn’t uncomfortable but had a tension that Murdoc couldn’t name. Their setting was strange, two teens sitting on swings in the children’s park lighting cigarettes like it was nothing. Murdoc kept the silence, he didn’t really have much to say. Stuart confused him, and yet he had no questions to ask. 

In their quiet, Murdoc entertained the idea of a band. Sure, he had his buddies that he played music with but they were all shit. Compared to him, at least. Compared to Stuart, of course. He thought about sitting for hours with Stuart, writing music, playing music. These innocent ideas turned to thoughts about kissing Stuart, what his hair felt like and if it was as soft as it looked. Murdoc huffed and shook the thoughts away, trying his best to keep whatever facade he still had left, in tact. 

Murdoc’s intrusive thoughts were interrupted by Stuart standing up. Murdoc made no move to get up but Stuart glanced at him and Murdoc felt scrutinized by his intense gaze. Stuart laughed before breaking their silence. “And I thought you were just some asshole,” he said, and Murdoc said nothing. Stuart began walking off, waving a goodbye. Murdoc let out a breath and watched him leave. 

Murdoc must’ve stayed at the park for another hour, smoking cigarette after cigarette, not caring much for the leather bed he made for himself. When he decided to finally drive home, his father’s truck had disappeared. Not anything new or surprising, but Murdoc made the decision to go inside. He walked over bottles and overflowing ashtrays and skipped the creaking steps in the stairs out of habit before finally making it to his bedroom. He locked the door behind him and glanced around at the room. The band posters on the walls, the records that littered the ground, the discarded clothes and stuff he hadn’t seen in what seemed like months. He cleared his bed and slipped off his jacket and heels before climbing beneath the covers. For once, he slept soundly in his own house that seemed so foreign to him.


End file.
